


Inter Procellas

by ItsyBitsyBatsySpider



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Cute, F/M, Gen, Good Parents Maggie & Wentworth Tozier, I have no idea where this is going, IMMA DIE, M/M, Mermaids, Not Beta Read, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Richie Tozier Being a Dumbass, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, and i had a breakdown, i will die on this hill, i wrote this out in like a day, mermaid au, some violence, your guess is as good as mine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23524246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsyBitsyBatsySpider/pseuds/ItsyBitsyBatsySpider
Summary: The thing about the ocean, is that it’s terrifying.And mysterious.And beautiful, and heartless, and calming, and relentless, and kind. The ocean is vast, and scary, and you never know what it could hold in store for you. You never know what secrets or truths could be found in the azure landscape, and you never will.It will either break you apart and crush your spirit, or it will guide you on the path to discover who you truly are.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 24
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starcut_sand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcut_sand/gifts).



> Did i edit this? No I did not.  
> Is this the first thing ive written/posted in four months? Yes it is.  
> Am i a slut for mermaid aus? Hell yeah i am. 
> 
> I was inspired by starcut_sand's own mermaid au, Marine Biology, which if you haven't read yet, please go check it ou, it's really good! And this is not a word for word remake of it, it's my own idea that i came up with! I hope you guys enjoy it.  
> You saw the tags, you know what youre getting yourself into.

The thing about the ocean, is that it’s terrifying.

And mysterious. 

And beautiful, and heartless, and calming, and relentless, and kind. You could search it’s vast landscapes for decades and centuries, and still you would not have seen everything there is to see in the watery world.

Dark depths hiding sunken tragedies and treasures lost to mankind forever. Having been swallowed by raging storms and downed with a swift and unhesitant wave, never to be seen by the sun ever again. But there are also gentle and playful waves rocking against the shores of a small sandy coast, beguiling and reassuring all comers that their waves will not harm them. 

The ocean is vast, and scary, and you never know what it could hold in store for you. You never know what secrets or truths could be found in the azure landscape, and you never will. 

It will either break you apart and crush your spirit, or it will guide you on the path to discover who you truly are. 

It’s always unpredictable. But in a way, doesn’t that mean that it  _ is  _ predictable? 

* * *

A young mer swam through the dim water. The last fading light of dusk barely illuminated his path before him, which left him feeling restless and anxious of what the darkness held within its shadows. But as much as he wished to turn around and head back to his dwelling, where it was safe and warm and familiar, he knew that he could not. He had to be strong. It was going to be different this time, it  _ had  _ to be. He was not going to go back to that- that  _ place.  _ It wasn’t even worth calling a home. It was simply a prison made of coral and rock that was just as heartless inside as the other resident living there. 

He had to leave. He had to get away, even though he knew that he would inevitably go back. That was the part that got him the most. 

Going back. 

He always went back, no matter what had happened. No matter how many times he said that he was going to leave and live his own life, no matter how many times she hurt him and made him feel worthless and weak, he always found himself slowly swimming back. 

The mer gripped his bag tightly to his chest and continued swimming, his face set in determination and a cold fire burning in his eyes. He could do this, he can get away, he can do this, he can do this, he CAN do this! 

He pushed forward, barely noticing how the water grew colder and darker around. What he was once so focused on, now forgotten. He didn’t care what was in the shadows, it was better than the  _ place  _ he was running from. A foreboding sense filled the ocean as fish swam to their havens and sea critters buried themselves beneath the sand. They all noticed the malevolence growing, the malevolence that the mer had gravely mistaken to notice. 

_ Just keep going, one sweeping movement at a time.  _ He told himself, quickly drifting over a small reef. 

A flash of light and a rolling boom filled the water, causing the young boy to freeze. His eyes wide, shoulders tense, and his small green knapsack was clutched between stiff fingers. He recognized that sound, and once he heard it he knew that he had made a dreadful mistake having stayed out too long. 

He shot off through the water, searching high and low in the reef for a cave or sheltered hole to hide in for the night, knowing that what was to come would not be kind. But there was nothing big or safe enough for him to use.The water grew colder, and the mer felt a thick tightness around his chest. He needed air. 

But he had to find somewhere to hide. 

But he needed to breathe. 

Tearing shaking hands through his hair, he grit his teeth and began swimming towards the surface. Tail pumping fast and hard so that he could reach the surface in time to avoid the storm before it took a turn for the worse. 

Even from where he was, he could see the rolling waves and biting white caps as the water clashed with itself. The waves fighting each other like scavengers fighting over a dead carcass for the last remaining scraps of food. The mer was afraid to breach the waves, to see the extent of the ocean’s rage, but he knew that it’d be better to live through a storm than to run out of air and drown in a cave. 

He broke through the surface, immediately gulping as much air as he could as he felt the tightness in his chest evaporate. He shuddered as rain pelted his head and shoulders, feeling as if tiny needles of teeth were digging into his skin. The wind howled in his ears, biting his exposed nose and cheeks, numbing them, and the waves towered over him in black swells, the white foam flying every time a wave crashed with another. The dark sky masked the stars and moon, with the only source of light coming from the flashes of lightning coming from behind the grey clouds. 

The mer stared at the sight in awe, the vast blackness and cold terrifying majesty of the ocean never failed to amaze him. And scare him. 

He could feel himself start to sweep away, and with a startled gasp dove back beneath the waves to avoid the torrential currents. But it was too late. The power of the ocean pulled him backwards, away from the safety of the reef below and up into the swell of an enormous wave. Panic flared inside his chest and a cold fear gripped the mer tightly, refusing to let him go. He gasped in fear and clenched his eyes tightly as the wave threw him. 

He slammed into the water, his back burning in pain and all the air he had in his lungs was punched out in a harsh breath. Instinctively he inhaled, but instead of air was met with the cold and bitter taste of the salt water. He tried to cough and breach the surface once more, but his mind was muddled with pain and fear, and all he could do was flail and try to right himself. 

He felt the water pull him again and before he knew what was happening was thrown by a wave into the air. He slammed into the blackness again and tried to breathe. That was the only thing he could focus on among all of it. Breathing. But every time he tried, it was either punched out or he sucked in a lungful of salt water. 

His mind grew fuzzy, as he could do less and less to control his movements. He was thrown by the ocean and tumbled through the wind and flailing around, trying to find the right way up. But none of it mattered as the water mercilessly continued to treat him like a rag doll. 

He crashed into the water once more, and instead of being swept up in another wave, rammed into the seabed. The typically soft and warm sand now as hard and cold as metal. The mer felt something crack beneath his chest and he hissed in pain, grey bubbles rising from his mouth as a muffled yelp escaped him. The current shook him away and flung him to the side, hot pain flaring in his tail before he had a chance to understand what was happening. 

Why did he have to run away? All he wanted now more than anything, was to be in the safe suffocating arms of his mother. Even if all she did was control him and keep him from making his own choices, at least it was safe and he didn’t have to worry about getting caught up in a storm. He made a vow then, that after all of this was over, he would return home and never fight back again. He would be the happy little mer that his mother always wanted and he would listen to her ramblings and whatever she told him to do. The boy felt like crying, the pain inside his chest, both physical and emotional was enough to overwhelm and hurt him beyond words. He wanted nothing more than to be safe and warm back at his house, eating the comforting bitter food that she always prepared for him. 

The mer broke through the surface once more, blindly breathing the air, and a wave broke over him once more, the white foam consuming everything in its path as lightning flashed in the heavens above. 

_ I promise I’ll go back.  _ He thought to the sky, as if his promises and pleas alone would calm the storm. But no matter what he said, he was still pushed and pulled and swept about by the heartless waves. He was about to give up, about to allow the storm to devour him with its icy teeth and black throat, when a final wave threw him over a rock and into the shallow pools below.

A pool behind a rock, no, a cliff. A great big cliff that fended off the crushing white and ebony crests. A safe spot. In the midst of this wretched fear-induced nightmare, he found a safe haven to rest. The boy let out a short breath of relief, and smiled at the fact that he could actually breathe without having water shove its way down his throat. He will be safe for now. 

He listened to the roars of the ocean as it continued to batter at the cliff protecting him from its clutches, and if he could, he would’ve laughed at it. 

And the last thing he thought about before sleep overcame him, was that he had to keep his promise. 

* * *

Soft sunlight drifted in through a window and fell onto the eyes of a young man who was too busy sleeping to notice the open panes. A breeze drifted into the room, rattling the curtains, and still the teen didn’t even rustle from his sleep. That is until his alarm clock went off. 

The obnoxious yodelling filled the air and jarred the teen from his slumber. His head popped off the pillow, hair an untamable mess, and he groaned in annoyance as the yodelling persisted. He slapped his hand all over the dresser, trying to find where his ill-placed phone was, and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes as he checked the time. 

_ 6:45 _ it read. Who the hell wakes up at the ungodly hour of  _ 6:45  _ in the morning? 

He does. And apparently so does his friend. 

Why did she have to convince him to come down to the beach at  _ 6:45  _ for a surf session? Why!? He debated whether or not to just text her and tell her that he wasn’t going to come, but then he figured that even he wasn’t going to be that big of an asshole. She was really excited about this the night before and had been looking forward to it all week, so no way in hell was he going to call her up and say that he wasn’t coming. 

But  _ why  _ did it have to be six in the fucking morning!? 

The teen threw off his covers and proceeded to get out of bed. Changing out of his pyjamas into a pair of brightly colored board shorts, a sweatshirt, with some tennis shoes. He grabbed the bag that he had prepared the night before and headed out of his room and down to the kitchen. If he was going to get through the day, then he  _ needed  _ some food. Preferably Redbull, but that technically doesn’t count. 

Or does it?

He strode into the kitchen and opened the fridge, browsing his options as his father took another sip of coffee from across the room. 

“What are you doing up to early?” He asked curiously. The teen reached into the fridge and grabbed an apple, stuffing it into his mouth.” 

“Be’ ans a go urfing” he said, voice muffled by the apple. His father smiled and set his coffee down, giving his son full attention. 

“Bev wants to what?” he asked. The teen took a big bite out of the apple and munched on it as he smirked. 

“Bev wants to go surfing.” 

“This early?” 

“I know, she’s fucking crazy.” Wentworth gave his son a reprimanding look at the foul language, but went on to brush it aside in favor of taking another swig of coffee. 

“Well alright, as long as you’re together. There was a big storm last night so be careful if the waves are a little choppy out there okay? Don’t do anything stupid.” 

The teen scoffed. “Me? Stupid? Why fathah what evah gave you the impression that ah would do such ah thang?” he asked in a botched Southern accent. Wentworth chuckled and got up from his spot at the table, placing his now empty mug in the sink. 

“Yeah, yeah, just make sure you’re back in time for classes.” 

“Sure thing pops.” he took another bite of his apple and went to race out the door. If he was going to meet up with Bev he didn’t want to be late. 

“And say ‘hi’ to Bev for us, Richie!” he heard his father call out behind him. 

“Yes, sir!” 

He climbed into his car, tossed his bag into the seat next to him, and after throwing on some music, began to drive off. He rolled down the windows, feeling the cool breeze roll through the car and tousle the still messy curls. He was going to be in the water in less than an hour, so really, who cares if he still has bedhead? 

Good ol’ 80’s rock filled the car and flowed out the windows and along with it, Richie’s singing; which was still scratchy from the early morning. The trees and beaches flew past him in a blur of greens and golds, and the sun still hung low to the horizon casting the sky in multitudes of colors. Peaches and oranges and reds and pinks, a beautiful morning for surfing indeed. 

The popular beaches blended into more obscure cliffs and rocks, and soon enough Richie found himself in the secluded part of the coast where very few knew about it. He and Bev had found the place completely by accident, thanks to a dare involving mud, some pie, and a runaway pig, (don’t ask), and ever since then they had claimed the place as their own. 

It was just a small cove, nothing big enough to attract the wide range of surfers, but just big enough for the two of them and their own small band of friends. And it was beautiful. Gold sand, blue waters, white and turquoise foam, it was truly their own personal paradise. And the best part about it was that a cliff blocked it off from the main beaches, so that not everyone could see it. It jutted out into the ocean and made it look like a normal cliff instead of a protective barrier of a safe haven. 

It was the best place on earth. 

Richie was just about to put on another playlist when he saw a familiar red truck parked up ahead. And the familiar head of red bobbing up and down as Richie pulled up into the “parking” spot right next to Bev’s truck. 

“Goooood morning Vietnam!” he shouted as he hopped out of his car. Startling Bev as she almost dropped her backpack. 

“Trashmouth! There you are! I was starting to think that you were gonna ditch me.” She said as a playful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. 

“What!? And miss out spending time with my favorite girl? Uh uh, no chance. Ain’t no way you’re getting rid of me that easily.” 

Bev nodded. “Good. You got your board?” she asked nodding to the car behind him. Richie shrugged and started walking towards the trunk. 

“Not much surfing would get done if I didn’t have my board Miss Marsh.” He opened the trunk and pulled out said board, still tucked safely away in its protective bag. “Ready to get wet? If you know what I mean.” He said as he wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. Bev laughed and shoved his shoulder causing him to stumble back a few feet. 

“Beep beep, Richie.” 

* * *

After the pair made their way to the beach, they changed out of their sweatshirts in favor of the much more suited neoprene jackets. Richie sat on the sand and checked/attached his leash before glancing at the water. His dad had said to be careful because of the storm last night, but from the looks of it, it’s like a storm never even happened at all. The ocean rose and fell in graceful swells and it looked 

Being on the water was probably one of the best feelings in the world, in Richie’s opinion. The steady thrum of the water beneath your feet as you glided up and down a wave felt almost like flying. The speed of the board, the wind in your face and hair, the taste of salt, the rush of adrenaline when pushing off, and the sheer power of the ocean beneath the board was intoxicating. 

The white and blue crests made him feel lighter and freer than anywhere else, and every time he was out on the water he felt like he was tempting fate. Almost as if he was saying, ‘ _ If I can ride a two ton wave without getting my skull crushed on the bar, then nothing can stop me. _ ’ Bev would say that that was feeding his already huge ego and recklessness, but he didn’t really care what she said when he felt as amazing as he did. 

Of course though, when there were chances of riding a wave, there were also equal chances of getting wiped out. Which were much less pleasurable experiences. Having your board yanked out from underneath you and toppling through the falls of the wave were never really fun, but they did teach Richie to be respectful and careful of what he was doing whenever he was out on the water. So that was a plus, I guess. 

The young adult paddled through the water, stomach on his board and a wide smile lighting up his face. He had since left his glasses behind on the beach, as any sensible person would do, but even though the world was blurry through his eyes, the waves were still beautiful every time they rose. The morning sun glinted off of their crests and made the foam glitter as the teal waters crashed in on each other. 

He whooped in delight as a wave started to rise, and in a practiced rush he turned his board around and began paddling as fast as he could. The wave rose higher and steeper, until finally it was ready and Richie pushed off of his board. The wind brushing aside his salt crusted hair, the thrum of the water below his board, and a teeth baring grin on his face. He heard Bev cheer for him somewhere beside him, but he was too busy focusing on his balance to really pay attention to her. 

They rode the waves until the sun crept higher and higher into the sky and until their bodies felt like noodles. Swimming and paddling and wiping out and diving beneath waves was really exhausting, and it really drained someone know matter how fit they were. 

Richie and Bev headed back to the shore and laid on the sand for as long as they could before reality finally caught up to them. The warming sun dried off the salt water, leaving Richie’s hair curling at the ends, and it made his skin feel grimy from the grit and ocean water. He had since changed out of his jacket in favor of his warm sweatshirt, and was currently laying on a towel and staring at the waves, his board lying next to him. 

Bev reached into her backpack beside her and pulled out a pack of granola bars and water bottles, offering one of each to her best friend. Richie munched on the bars gratefully, having only had an apple for breakfast, and watched as the white capped waves crashed into the shore. 

“So,” Bev began, “Any plans after class today?” 

Richie shrugged. “Eh, you know...the usual. Studying and wondering why the fuck I chose to be an English and performing arts major.” 

The redhead chuckled. “Yeah I don’t feel sorry for you, I tried telling you it’s a useless major.” 

“And seventeen-year-old me didn’t listen. God what a fucking idiot, who let that dipshit make life decisions?” 

Bev shrugged, but then started packing up her stuff. Richie glanced at her curiously. “You going already?” 

“Yeah, Rich I got a shift in like half an hour.” 

“What? You’re just gonna leave me here all alone with my thoughts with no one to listen to my worldly woes?” 

Bev stood up, sand still clinging to her legs and feet as she strung her backpack over one shoulder. “Ah yes, how cruel of me. Leaving you behind in this dreadful world to go to a job that pays twelve dollars an hour with little to no benefits and healthcare coverage. I am truly a monster.” She grabbed her shoes and began walking towards the path that leads up to their cars. “I’ll see you later Trashmouth!” 

“Later, fucker!” Richie called out behind her. He settled back down on his towel, planning on sitting there for a moment longer, but without Bev there to keep him company he got bored quick, and couldn’t find any other reasons to stay at the cove. 

That is, until something strange caught the corner of his eye. 

It was a blink and you miss it kind of thing, barely worth a second glance, but now having his glasses back on, Richie gave it a second glance. He got up onto his feet and began making his way towards the thing, buried halfway in the sand and covered with a strand of seaweed. 

He brushed aside the seaweed, dug it out of the sand and stared at a strange, green, patchwork knapsack. Weathered and beaten with a sewed on pouch to its side, and instead of the normal strings that cinched it shut, there was a rope around the top and a canvas strap in place. 

Richie stared at it, his nose scrunching up in confusion. He had never seen it in the cove before, and it certainly wasn’t there the last time he was here. Maybe it washed up in the storm last night? 

Yeah, that was probably it. For how else could it have gotten here? And maybe something else washed up in the storm? 

Richie tucked the knapsack beneath his arm and looked around his feet. If that washed up on the shore, then what else did the storm bring? He found some cute seashells and sea glass, which he pocketed for Bev later, but other than the bag, he didn’t find anything else. He was about to call it and go pack up his stuff, when the sound of a loud splash suddenly filled the air. 

Richie froze. 

He turned slowly to the source of the sound, and much to his surprise, saw a head. Or more specifically, a person. A person with brown hair, rosy tan skin, and a huge cut on the side of his face with dried blood sticking to it. 

“Oh shit!” Richie yelped, a hand coming up to cover his mouth before his stomach had a chance to regurgitate everything it had eaten that day. “Fuck! What the hell.” He slung the knapsack’s strap over his shoulder in a single motion, and quickly made his way over to the dude laying in the sand. The only part of him that Richie could see so far was his face, but it was enough to let him know that something was horribly wrong. 

How the hell could he have missed this!? Someone was fucking knocked out on his and Bev’s beach and they didn’t even notice him the entire time they were there! What the fuck was wrong with them!? Who knows what injuries this dude could have. Maybe he fell from the cliff and had been there since last night, or maybe he was out sailing and had been thrown overboard. But who the hell goes sailing out in the middle of a thunderstorm at night? That’s such a dumb thing to do even by Richie’s standards. 

But when Richie got to him, and was about to start doing every medical procedure he knew, he was stopped short when the guy came into full view. And it stopped Richie in his tracks. 

A tail. A fucking tail. Shining blue, teal, and green, with some scales shimmering gold in the sunlight. Scales were lined along his shoulders, and fucking fins of all things jutted from his forearms, bearing the same colors as his tail. 

But it didn’t stop there either. The second part to stick out the most was the purples and yellows that mottled his rosy skin along his chest, as well as the huge gash lining the side of his tail, dripping with red. It would’ve been obvious to anyone that he was severely hurt and would need help. And Richie was the lucky bastard to find him. 

“Oh...  _ fuck _ .” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in two days? That's gotta be some kind of record for me. i havent done that since last year.   
> But anyway, i wanted to get this chapter out as soon as i can! I know that if i wait any longer on this Inspiration/Motivation Trip or whatever, that its gonna be gone before i know it. So i'm taking advantage of it and getting out as much as i can.   
> Hope you guys enjoy this next chapter!

“What the  _ fuck _ ! Holy shit! Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, _ Oh my god _ !” Richie shouted as he stared wide-eyed at the  _ mermaid _ of all things. He shook his head, hand coming up to clamp over his mouth, and he squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t possible! Mermaids, or mermen whatever since this thing was clearly a guy, did not fucking exist! 

No, this couldn’t be real, this wasn’t happening, it simply wasn’t real. Maybe he had just hit his head a little too hard when he hit the water last time. Yeah, that last wave was a real bitch, it really knocked him off his feet. That had to have jostled his brain and given him a concussion right? And who  _ knows  _ how much seawater Richie has swallowed in the past couple of years!? Maybe it all just finally caught up to him and now he was hallucinating! That made sense right? A concussion and hallucinations? Right!? 

No, it didn’t make sense. 

Because if it did, then the mer wouldn’t have been there when Richie opened his eyes again, still looking as awful and beautiful as when Richie first saw him. The purple bruises stood out against his skin and the crimson streaks running down his tail marred the shining blue scales, reminding Richie that he was hurt and in no shape to be left on his own. 

“Oh, fuck.” he cursed once more, resigning himself to what needed to be done. 

He dropped the stuff he collected, shells, bag, and all, and bolted towards the path that Bev had only gone through what felt like minutes before. Fallen twigs and hard shells poked at Richie’s bare feet as he ran through the vegetation, with a look of panic on his face and a sense of purpose in his step. He raced to his car, panting heavily, throwing open the trunk, and dug through the mess that had made its home in the back seat. 

A couple of months ago, Richie and Bev were hanging out and surfing on the main beaches when Richie unexpectedly got a pretty bad cut on his foot when they had come back in to rest and grab some snacks. It was bloody, you could see the bone, sand had gotten in it, and it was gross, disgusting, and painful as shit. All thanks to some asshole who left behind a broken beer bottle and didn’t care to clean it up before the tide came in and swept it away. And then to add onto it, the ocean had covered it up with enough sand that Richie didn’t even notice the broken glass before it was too late. 

The situation showed just how much both he and Bev were unprepared for anything like that, so as they waited for the paramedics to arrive and while his foot bled all over the sand and Bev’s torn shirt/bandage, they both agreed that as soon as this was over they’d look into buying matching first aid kits. The matching part wasn't really important or necessary, but it was something to help keep Richie’s mind off the pain. He thought that a Batman and Robin theme would be fun. And ever since then Richie and Bev carried a first aid kit with them just in case a similar event ever happened again; whether it was for them or for someone else. 

Richie also went the extra mile and learned how to wrap a bandage, create a makeshift splint, and got his CPR certification. All from online sports medicine courses. People could make fun of him all they wanted about how stupid he was, but just because he acted like a dumbass idiot ninety percent of the time, didn’t mean that he was one. And when it counted, Richie was there to help.

The raven rustled through the smelling shirts and sandy blankets until finally he saw the familiar red, yellow, and green bag. He snatched it from its place, quickly closed the trunk, and raced all the way down to the beach, barely registering the rogue branches that scratched his face every few feet or so. Richie’s legs pumped as he darted back to where the mermaid, no  _ merman,  _ was and immediately knelt down beside him, chest heaving and legs aching. 

“Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay,” he muttered under his breath. With shaking hands he opened up the Robin themed med kit, and dug around for disinfectant. Even while his head was buzzing and feeling fuzzy from all the blood, it was as if he was running on autopilot, pulling out the small bottle of disinfectant and twisting off the cap to pour it over the gaping gash. 

From the looks of it, it looked like it had stopped bleeding a bit ago, but the constant splash of seawater kept washing away whatever clotting was trying to form, so more blood just kept coming. It was really freaky and Richie was doing all he could to keep a level head. 

The mer grunted uncomfortably as the disinfectant washed over the gash, and Richie tensed up, fearful that he was going to wake up. But when he didn’t, he relaxed and continued to pour. But the seawater kept coming and splashing over the tail, and because of it, Richie didn’t know if what he was doing would work or not. He’d have to pull the creature further up shore if he was going to help. Goddammit. 

Richie got up from his knees, went over and bent down, and slowly tried shifting his arms underneath the creature’s armpits, so that it’d be easier to pull him up, because no way in hell was he going to be carrying this thing bridal style. He simply refused to put his back through that torture, knowing that it would’ve been sore like a bitch later. Also, who knew how much that tail weighed. 

And apparently, it weighed a fucking  _ ton.  _

Richie groaned at the weight, dragging the poor mer through the shifting sand, and he wondered how any living thing could tolerate having something so heavy attached to them, when the creature moaned painfully and started panting heavily. 

“Oh shit!” Richie exclaimed, having realized that he hurt him. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, I’m sorry, fuck!” Then as quickly and gently as he could, he placed the mer back on the sand, still wheezing before finally calming down a little. 

_ Okay, okay, what’s next? What am I supposed to do next? _ Richie thought as he racked his brain trying to remember the next step. During one of the online courses, they gave an acronym to memorize for treating open wounds, and for the life of him, Richie could not remember the original one. So he just made up his own in classic Richie fashion. DiKKS. 

_ Disinfect _ _   
_ _ Keep it elevated _

_ Keep a steady pressure _

And use a 

_ Sterilized bandage  _

He rifled through the med bag, trying to find anything that could help keep pressure on the wound, but much to his horror, there was nothing. No tourniquet or clean towel, nothing. He couldn’t use the towel he was lying on earlier, there was sand and gross water on it, and since he didn’t have anything else remotely similar to use, he would have to improvise. 

Richie glanced down at his sweatshirt, and sighed. “Fuck it.” He said as he pulled it over his head, leaving his back exposed. He tucked one sleeve underneath the tail and proceeded to tie the two sleeves together, pulling the knot tighter and tighter until Richie was sure that it placed enough pressure on the gash to keep it from bleeding. Or at least he hoped. The mer had jerked at the sudden pain, a cry wrangling itself from his throat, and for a moment his eyes flew open. Honey-brown glinting golden in the sunlight. Richie watched, both mesmerized and fearful, as his eyelids fluttered shut once more. 

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t in good shape if that didn’t fully wake him up. 

The next step would have been to elevate the tail, to also help reduce the blood flow, but from the looks of it Richie didn’t think that he’d be able to do that seeing how he could barely lift it himself. And also how there was no one else here to help him, which he was both thankful and bitter over. 

He looked through the med kit again, looking for clean bandages, and in an attempt to calm himself down, starting talking. “Yep, don’t mind me, I’m just here helping out a mermaid of all fucking things, and making sure that he doesn’t fucking bleed to death on the sand right in front of me. Yeah, no big deal. Holy motherfuck.” 

He took out the disinfectant again, along with some gauze pads, tape, and the biggest ace bandage he could find. He looked at his bloodied sweatshirt, whining over the fact that he would have to clean it later, (he’d probably ask Bev how to get blood out of clothes later, because a girl would know how to do that right?) Before kneeling beside the tail, and pressing a hand down onto the wound. 

The mer grunted. His hands, which apparently had teal webbings and fucking  _ claws of all things sticking out of them,  _ clenched in the sand, and his teeth grit together in discomfort. Richie knew that he would have to act as fast as possible, both to minimize the pain and to also keep the bleeding at bay. 

He held down the sweatshirt a few moments longer, really wishing that he had another set of hands to help, before snatching it away and jumping into action. 

And honestly? Richie’s not really sure how he did it so fast, nor how the mer didn’t wake up from all of the incessant cursing. But by the time that Richie was done there were bloody clumps of sand at his knees, and a somewhat cleanly wrapped tail in front of him. He had completely dissociated for the whole thing. Great timing. And he also didn’t puke his guts out! Hooray.

Red seeped through some of the bandages, as it was to be expected, and Richie felt like passing out as the initial adrenaline started to leave his system. The buzzing began fading away and Richie felt like the worst of it was over. 

But he still wasn’t done. 

Next he had to focus on the ribs, which looked like they were getting worse by the minute, turning an even sicker shade of yellow and a deeper red purple-ly color. And after some quick searches on Google, he believed that they were fractured ribs. Whatever this guy went through during the storm had to have been hell. And as for treating fractured ribs, Richie needed an ice pack and some pain meds, and both of which he didn’t have. So the best he could do was try to make him as comfortable as possible until he woke up. And hopefully he wouldn’t freak out too much. 

The cut on the side of his head was a lot more manageable, thank God. All it needed was to be cleaned and patched up, and thankfully, Richie could do both. He shuffled over to the mer’s head and propped it up on his leg, trying not to think too much about it or how cute the creature was. Actually, he was  _ really  _ cute. With soft brown hair, rosy cheeks, a soft jaw, and apparently honey-gold eyes, but Richie didn’t have the time right now to focus on that. Maybe later. 

He poured the last of the disinfectant over the cut and began cleaning off the dried blood from the skin. The gauze he used to clean it up stained red and fell down onto the ground. A fresh pad was placed over the cut, and Richie reached over to grab the tape. 

But before he could pull off strips and stick them onto the mer’s face, keeping the dressing in place, the creature gasped and jolted upright. 

Which caused three things to happen... 

  1. Richie jumping back and causing his heart to skyrocket, lost in the atmosphere and never to be seen again. 
  2. The mer hissing and crying out in pain as his ribs were jostled and his tail flinched. Staining the bandages an even deeper shade of red. 
  3. And the mer staring wildly around him, still grimacing, until his eyes fell upon Richie and his brown eyes filled with fear and all the blood drained from his face. (Which Richie was sure couldn’t be healthy seeing how he had lost so much blood already.)



The two stared at each other for a moment, before the mer started breathing heavily and the pained look on his face grew worse. Richie’s eyes widened, more so than they already were. 

“Oh, fuck.” he said for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. “Shit, shit, stop that, hey! It’s okay, you’re fine dude! Look, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He said as he raised his hands in a placating, almost-surrendering manner. “See! I don’t have a knife or some shit, I promise I’m not gonna do anything!” 

The creature looked at him with those same fearful eyes the longer he talked, but as soon as Richie was done, they blinked sluggishly and his head began nodding off. Richie watched him warily, a new concern coming to mind as the creature brought a hand up to his face, shielding his eyes from the sun. In three seconds, he seemed to have forgotten that Richie was there in the first place. 

“Uhhmm, do...do you understand me?” he asked carefully. The mer turned back to look at him, stared for a second, eyes squinting from the bright midday sun (Wow, was it noon already? Yeah, Richie definitely wasn’t making it to class.) before making a questioning sound. There weren’t any words, it was barely a breathy squeak, but the awkwardly delayed response and the evident dizziness and dazed look in his eye was enough to confirm what Richie had thought. 

He had a concussion. The raven sighed tiredly. 

This day just kept getting better didn’t it?

“Okay, please don’t freak out, but I swear I’m not gonna hurt you but I gotta, I gotta patch that up okay?” Richie said as he pointed to the cut on the mer’s forehead. In response, the mer rubbed his hand across the surface and hissed in pain as it brushed against the cut the wrong way, dislodging the gauze pad and wiping away whatever was left of the disinfectant. Richie sighed. 

“Gee thanks for that you little shit. I'm so happy I gotta start all over again.” He shuffled over next to the mer, who didn’t seem to realize he had moved. “That’s just great.” 

He moved to pull out the disinfectant bottle, but when he found that it was empty, having used the last of it already, he tossed it into the bag and huffed in annoyance. And of course, in normal Richie™, he started to fill the silence with words, since he couldn’t stand awkward and unknown silences. 

“You know, I’ve reached a point in my life when it’s like this might as well just happen, you know?” He grabbed another pad and the rolle of tape before turning back to the mer who was looking at him funny. Maybe talking to him would help him calm down? It was worth a shot. Richie swallowed thickly. 

“Adult life is already so goddamn weird. Being an English major isn’t enough of a shit show, so sure! Why not throw in a fucking bloody and concussed mermaid who just so happens to be the cutest fucking thing on the planet! Why not!” The creature stared at him as Richie placed the gauze on the cut and began using his teeth to strip off pieces of tape. He placed the tape on the pad, keeping it in place, and tried his best not to think about how soft the mer’s skin felt. Albeit, dry. The lack of response bothered Richie as he looked at the creature and met his brown, confused eyes.

“You really can’t understand a word I’m saying can you?” he asked as he sat back and checked his handiwork. The creature's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, brown eyes narrowing as they stared back at Richie and he bit his lip as if he was trying to think of something. And of course, when he bit his lip, it showed another delightful feature that made Richie want to fucking punch something, either it was the sand or the universe, he couldn’t decide which. Teeth. Sharp, pointed, incisors that definitely did not look human in the slightest and could probably tear Richie to shreds. 

Wonderful. 

“I….speak...a little.” a scratchy, hollow voice said, and Richie’s gaze shot up to look at the mer in front of him, mouth falling open as he watched the poor thing move his mouth around and squint through his eyelids. 

“What?” Richie said. The mer opened his mouth again, the same hollow and gravelly voice coming out, sounding just as it did before. “I.. speak… a little.” 

Richie’s mouth opened and closed, flabbergasted over hearing such a quiet and unpracticed sound. It was clear that the mer didn’t use his voice often, which just went to show just how unprepared and alien he was to being on land and talking in the air. But still, the response was a surprise, and before Richie could think twice, his mouth went off. 

“Are you serious!? Well then what the fuck, why didn’t you say anything earlier? Do you need water? You probably fucking do, since you’re a fucking mermaid and who knows how dehydrated you are, also how the  _ ever loving fuck _ do you know English!?” 

Brown eyes stared back at Richie, and Richie held his breath, waiting for a response. The familiar silence being filled in with the sound of ocean waves pounding on the shoreline and the occasional trill of seagulls coming from somewhere up above. 

“I speak… a little.” 

Richie’s shoulders slumped. 

He sat back on the sand, barely registering the subtle burn from the warmth of it, and looked at the mythical being that somehow came to life. 

“That’s, that’s all you know isn’t it?” He asked, already knowing the answer to that question. 

“I speak a little.” 

Four words. Just four measly words and that was all that Richie had to work with. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. 

Richie ran a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes from beneath his glasses and sighed tiredly. What a fantastic day this has been.

First, he woke up at six in the morning, on a Friday of all days too, then after a great time surfing, found a barely conscious, super-duperly injured and concussed mermaid, who only knew four words in the entire English language, and ran out of all the medical supplies he had trying to keep said mermaid from bleeding out and dying on Richie’s favorite beach. 

Yeah, this day just couldn’t get any better. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So theres that! hope you guys liked it, i had fun writing it. And also i feel like when youre thrown in a situation like this, you just have to get over it quickly before youre able to truly freak out about it. So Richie's Real Freakout is actually coming later, although i feel like i got enough in this chapter.   
> I also did a lot of medical research before hand, and was surprised to find out that you dont actually wrap up the area with fractured ribs. So i thought that that was a little interesting.   
> but anyway, until next time guys! Love you all and stay safe out there!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly didn't realize how long it had been since i lat updated, so wow! Time really is an illusion and quarantine is the magician. (I have no idea if that makes sense or not, please forgive me i am tired)   
> But anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this next chapter, I had some fun but also some frustration writing it.   
> So enjoy!

"Okay, listen up, even if your fish-ass can't understand what I'm saying, you better pay attention." Richie said as he adjusted the mer, trying to help him be more comfortable in the cool sand beneath a fallen tree. 

He had tried his best to get the mysterious mer into the shade, so that he wouldn't dry out on the beach. Because after Richie finished wrapping up the tail, he noticed that some of the iridescent scales were beginning to curl and looked startlingly dry. And the insistent itching and constant shifting around from the mer told Richie that being out in the sun like this for too long probably wasn’t good.

Richie grimaced, he felt bad that he couldn't help anymore and that the creature was stuck being washed up on land for now; but if the gash on his tail was going to heal properly without risk of infection, then it had to be kept dry for a while. 

But did that rule still apply to mythical sea creatures? Wouldn't the water help the healing process or some shit? 

Richie shook his head and rubbed his eyes in frustration. He really had no idea what to do. This was one giant fucking shitshow and the poor guy didn't have the slightest idea on what the right thing was. He could either do one thing or the other, and both could end horribly. 

Like he could keep the merman in the water and keep him from drying out  _ or  _ he could try to keep the wound as clean and safe as possible and help the healing process as best as he could while also risking dehydration and death.

"Okay, fuck it, listen you dumbass." Richie finally said. The mer looked up at him, eyes still a little dazed and his movements a little sluggish. He looked at him with interest and an almost childlike wonder in his eyes, but still carried that subconscious wariness that came with dealing with the unknown. It seemed like he was in the same boat that Richie was in. 

Not knowing what to do but also not sure of what  _ not  _ to do. It was a frustrating boat to be in, but alas, they were in it together. 

"I have some water back in my car. I won't be gone long, but you have to  _ stay here." _ He said emphatically, along with exaggerated arm motions that he wasn't entirely sure got across. 

Brown eyes stared back, and a webbed hand came to rub at his forehead, as if he was trying to ease a headache. Richie wondered if painkillers would work on merpeople or not. 

"Do  _ not,  _ I repeat,  _ do not,  _ go to the water." He said as he pointed at the ocean, shook his head, and crossed his arms in an  _ 'X' _ . Even an idiot could understand that, right? 

" _ No."  _

The mer looked back up at him, following his movements, towards the ocean, and then back at Richie. 

"N...no?" He tried out delicately. His tongue forming around the word hesitantly and experimentally. Richie nodded. 

"No." He crossed arms again, just for good measure, before standing up and shaking the sand off of his knees. "I'll be right back. Do not fucking move!" Richie began making his way towards the path, brushing aside the rogue branches and plants, and heaving a great sigh that left his shoulders slumped. How the fuck was he supposed to handle this? They never taught you how to deal with this kind of shit in high school, much less college, so what the fuck was he going to do?

He could try calling Bev and explain the situation to her, but what exactly was he supposed to say?  _ "Oh hey Bev! You remember this morning when we went surfing and you had to leave for work early and shit? Well as it turns out after you left I found a mermaid! And oh yeah, he's hurt, hella cute, and can't speak a lick of English. Any ideas?"  _

Yeah, that'd work out great. 

He couldn't bring him to a marine wildlife/rehab center, because that'd be a fucking disaster, they’d probably ship him off to who knows where and run tests and experiments on him. And Richie couldn't bring him back to his house because where would he even put him? The  _ bathtub _ !? The bathtub was way too small and there were only two bathrooms and one of them had the bath, so no way would that have worked, not to mention that his  _ parents  _ also live there too, so that secret wouldn't last very long. 

There were no good choices, but even then, Richie knew that he still had to choose. He couldn't just leave the mer out here by himself. Alone. In the sun. Away from water with no one to look out for him. 

This was on him now. 

Richie came up to his car, the second time within the hour, and opened it up. This time a lot less frantic than the first, but it was still just as messy as it was the first time, if not more so. He rummaged in the back seat until he found the leftovers of a few snacks and about four bottles of water, stacking them in his arms until he was sure he couldn't carry anymore. 

He closed the door with his foot, his arms being occupied at the moment, and started walking down to the beach again, his mind still thinking. 

He could try keeping him here, at the cove, but then he'd have to check on him every day and night, just to make sure that he was fine and hadn't gotten himself discovered, or worse, killed. 

Yeah, that seemed to be the best option, if not the one with the most effort. But hey, it was better than bringing him home to his parents. 

Richie reached the sand, his feet sinking into the soft gold before he realized that something was off. The mer wasn't underneath the shade. 

"Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding!" 

* * *

The mer didn't exactly know what was happening when he had woken up. All he knew was that everything hurt, he didn't know how he got on shore, and that there was a  _ human  _ of all things hovering over him. 

So naturally, he panicked. 

But that had proven to be a huge mistake when his head pounded like waves crashing against a rock. It made him feel like shit; like he was about to die. And to make matters worse, he couldn't focus on anything for the life of him. He felt dizzy, like he was about to throw-up, and his hearing was botched too, flickering in and out and ringing all the time. 

So when the human tried talking to him, in words that were bizarrely unfamiliar to him, he did the one thing he could. He spoke the four words he knew. 

He didn't know what human language they were exactly, or what he was saying, but apparently they were the right ones, because straight after that the human was speaking even faster than before if that was even possible. 

But his relief was short lived when the mer kept repeating himself. He knew that the human was disappointed, having been excited that he could talk, but he couldn't exactly just hear him speak and magically know the language. It didn't work like that, even with merfolk. 

So when he kept talking and started making strange movements, like pointing to the ocean and saying  _ "No.",  _ the mer did what anyone in his situation would've done. 

He assumed that that was the human word for 'Ocean'. Why else would he have waved and gestured to it so dramatically? 

Which is why the moment the human left, the meaning of which was still a mystery to the mer, he did his best to roll and crawl away from the shade. He hated the feeling of the sand on his dry scales and he hated the feeling of his sensitive chest and aching tail even more. 

This all sucked. Everything sucked. 

All he wanted to do was go home, apologize to his mother, and never, _ ever  _ leave his house ever again. 

But no, he was stuck on some God-forsaken beach in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, with an injured tail, fucked up chest, and an even more hurting throat. 

He panted heavily, both from exertion and pain, when he heard a shout from behind him. The mer groaned in annoyance and laid his head on the sand. It was the fucking human again. And after looking behind him, he realized that he barely made it out of the shade. How was anything supposed to move on land?

He listened to the sound of pattering quickly making its way over to him, and for a moment the creature was envious of the two legs that the human had. He made walking on land look so easy, and not awkward or painful as it was for him. 

He felt a pair of hands grip his shoulder and gently try to pry him from the ground.  _ What did the human want now?! _

The mer groaned and lifted his head to meet the other's gaze, a confused glare coming from him. The human said something heatedly, but the words fell on deaf ears. The mer pointed at the water, determination in his eyes. "No." He growled. 

The human stared, annoyance melting away and leaving behind confusion, which in turn led the merman to be confused. "No." He said again, more emphatically. The human looked to the water and then back at the mer, before a look of understanding flitted across his face. 

"No, nonono," he sighed, webless hands coming up to rub at the space between his eyes, and seeing the hands unnerved the mer. How does anyone swim efficiently without webbing? 

The human waved at the water, and turned to the mer. " _ Ocean."  _ He said, seeming to have understood the mer's confusion. "Ocean. No." He said, crossing his arms in that strange manner again. He shook his head, dark curls bouncing around his head, before the young merperson understood. 

He was saying that he couldn't go back to the water. 

A flare of anger welled up inside of him.  _ Why!?  _

He turned to face the human, this annoying, ridiculous human who dared to keep him from the ocean, his home, and was ready to scream at him, bite him even, before the human suddenly gestured to his tail. 

The mer spun around, casting a quick glance at the limb to see what the human was so set on showing him, when he stopped in his tracks. Burning anger melting away, only to be replaced with a hollow chill. His tail was wrapped in bandages. A long gash trailing along the side of his tail, seeped red against the white bandages, and ached with every flick or movement that he did. No wonder he was in so much pain. 

The mer swallowed thickly, and turned back to face the human, who was watching him carefully. It occurred to him then, why he couldn’t go back into the water. If he did, he would risk getting it infected or further injury to his tail, and if he was to get home, he’d need to be able to swim without getting himself hurt. 

Not even mentioning that the blood would attract some unwanted attention, which the mer really didn’t want to deal with at the moment. If he was to make it back, if he was going to be alright, then he’d have to stay on land for the time being. It was the only way. 

The mer let out a sigh, one that barely hurt his chest, and looked up to meet the human’s eyes once again. He nodded in understanding.  The human spoke again, the words once more lost on the mer, before he stood up and walked over to the creature’s side, and then shifting his arms underneath him.  The pain bloomed in his chest and tail, stinging as the human started dragging him across the sand. The mer was too busy focusing on the pain to even notice when he had stopped moving, having only been focusing on getting his breathing under control and struggling to ignore the pain in his tail. 

And when he managed to open his eyes once again, he found that he was in the shade again. Away from the harsh sun that surely would've killed him had he been out there for a while longer. Once the pain subsided, allowing him to finally hear and pay attention to his surroundings once more, the mer found himself listening to the human ramble. Saying the same thing over and over again. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,"

The mer didn't understand what it meant, but it seemed to be remorseful and apologetic if he was going by context. He offered a dismissive wave, in hopes that the human would take it as  _ ‘It’s okay, no harm done.’  _

The human sat down beside him, brushing the curls from his forehead and taking off the strange glass structures off of his face in order to rub the space between his eyes. He seemed to do that a lot. 

He casted a weary glance at the mer, eyes heavy and tired even from where he was lying, and he mumbled something before scooting closer to him. The mer watched cautiously, unsure of what he was going to do. But if the past day was anything to go by, the human wasn't going to hurt him. If he was, then he would've by now. Hell, he's had more than enough chances to, but over and over again he's shown that he only wants to help. With the bandages and even pulling him into the shade. 

The mer bit his lip. Maybe instead of being so cautious, he should try to trust him. He didn't exactly have a lot of options right now, and if he was going to get back to his mother, he'd need to play this right. And right now, the best choice would be trusting this human. 

As foolish as that might seem. 

The human said something odd. Not grammatically, for how would he be able to tell, but sound wise. The mer had never heard that sound come out of his mouth before, it was strange and sounded choppy. He looked at the human quizzically, not understanding what he was trying to get across. The mer struggled to sit up, in order to show interest, and the act itself was more than enough to leave him gritting his teeth in discomfort. But the human looked relieved that he had gotten a reaction. 

He repeated the sound again, enunciating it more dramatically and looking intently at the creature before him, as if that was supposed to do something. 

He then gestured at himself, hand placed firmly on his chest as he repeated the sound again. 

"Richie." He said. He patted his chest. "Richie." 

He then moved his hand, so that it was gesturing towards the mer, who just looked at it incredulously. The human sighed and drew back his hand, placing it over the exact same space as before. 

"Richie. I… Richie." He said, which did wonders for the mer's understanding. 

He was telling him his  _ name _ . Which honestly made a lot of sense, because referring to him as 'the human' was getting quite old. 

The human, Richie, then gestured back to the mer, and he understood that he was asking for  _ his  _ name. 

The creature swallowed, his throat feeling dry as he glanced up at Richie, whose gaze was unwavering. He was waiting for a reply, and who was he to deny a name. Especially to this human who was going through so much just to make sure that he would be alright. The mer licked his lips nervously, before placing his own hand against his chest and feeling his heart thundering beneath his palms, he said. 

"Eddie….I, Eddie." 

* * *

The elation that came with finally learning the merman’s name left a giant grin on Richie’s face. Because  _ he finally got a name!  _ And a pretty human sounding one too. It wasn’t nearly as cool as Richie had been hoping it was, cause he was expecting something more along the lines of Triton or Aquor or Tsunami or Shark-Killer or whatever merfolk names tended to be. He definitely wasn’t expecting such a normal sounding name like ‘Eddie’. Maybe it was a geographical thing or some shit. 

But anyways, the point was that Richie got a name, so now he could finally refer to the mer as something other than ‘the mer/merman’. It was a relief to say the least. 

Richie held out his hand towards Eddie, who just stared at it a little confused. Richie felt like slapping himself. 

“Sorry, I keep forgetting. Anyways, it’s nice to meet you, Eddie.” 

At the sound of his name, the mer looked up at Richie, eyes wide. He glanced back down at the hand and looked back up at him. Richie rolled his eyes. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie.” he said again, this time slower than before. And as he said it he took his own hand and shook it, showing Eddie what he was supposed to do. He offered it again, and this time, Eddie seemed to grasp the concept. He reached out tentatively and grabbed Richie’s hand carefully, the teal webs between his fingers brushing against Richie’s skin (who tried his best to hide his shudder) and with a gentle motion, shook his hand. Richie smiled wide and nodded his head. 

“Yep! Nice..to meet… you, Eddie.” he said patiently, motioning towards the mer so that he could understand that he wanted him to try it too. Eddie’s eyebrows scrunched in concentration and he dropped his hand back to his side. 

“Nice...to...meet….ooo, Rich-ey.” he finally muttered, after a few tense seconds. Richie felt like jumping up and down from happiness. Who would have thought that Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier would be the first human ever to teach a mermaid to speak English? 

And even though it could use some work, it definitely wasn’t bad for a first attempt! Richie sat down next to Eddie, getting comfortable for a bit, before turning around to look around for the extra snacks he had gotten from his car. During the whole commotion that happened, he had almost forgotten that the food was there in the first place. He had dropped it right before racing out to get Eddie and just now remembered that he had it. And it was good timing too, because just then a rumble filled the air. Not the recognizable roll of thunder that cracked across the skies and warned sailors of oncoming storms, but the familiar gurgle of one's stomach when their body asked for food. 

Richie turned to look at Eddie, who's rosy skin was becoming even more pinkish until even the tips of his ears were bright red. He glanced down at the sand and his hair hid the embarrassed glint in his eyes. 

Richie tried to stifle a laugh, biting down on his lip and covering his mouth with his hand, but even he couldn't hide the bright smile that grew. Apparently it seemed like merfolk also experienced the same humiliation of having their stomachs demonstrate a whale mating call. Richie scoffed, and Eddie turned to glare at him, embarrassment melting away into defensive anger. Richie raised his hands in surrender, a smile still lighting up his face. 

"Okay, okay, no need to get your panties in a twist! I take it you're hungry huh?" The mer stared, which Richie had come to expect. There were only so many reactions one could have when it involved unfamiliar languages. Even though Eddie showed enough intelligence to actually learn English, there was still a difference between repeating sounds and actually knowing what the sound meant. 

"I might actually have something. Just a second, okay, Eds?" Richie said as he stood up, heading over to the snacks that had been dropped. 

"Eddie." Said the mer from behind him. Richie turned around to look at him. 

"What?" He asked. Eddie bit his lip and his eyebrows scrunched together, looking as if he was solving a particularly hard math problem. 

"No…'Eds'.  _ Eddie. _ " He said, emphasizing his name and sending a glare towards Richie. The curly-haired teen suppressed a laugh. But he wasn’t laughing out of humour, but in excitement! The merman was forming phrases! As crude and inelegant as they were, but he was still using the words that he knew, communicating to Richie with them, and getting his point across. How could he  _ not  _ be excited about it!? 

A grin lit up Richie's face, which he quickly schooled and covered with a facade of casualness. He shrugged as he began picking up the snacks and water off of the ground. 

"Sure, whatever you say Eds." 

The mer glared again, his gaze more intense than before. " _ Eddie."  _

"Okay, okay, so you don't like nicknames? Well, alright then, glad we got that worked out, Spagh-Eddie." 

The mer opened his mouth to correct Richie again, but he stopped before he could figure out if Richie was teasing him or not. He couldn't decide if that last word was a nickname or not, or if it had another meaning to it. To him, all human words sounded the same, but also infinitely different at the same time. 

Richie smirked, and filed that away for later. Maybe he could get away with more rhyming names in the future. That’d be fun. 

Richie sat on the sand, beside Eddie, and laid out the food. Which sadly consisted of a half drunken bottle of Gatorade (which Richie ended up snatching away before Eddie could reach it because who knows what Gatorade would do to his fucking digestive system), a family size package of Cheetos, an apple, and a single bottle of water. 

Yeah, no way in hell would the first few things be good for a marine creature to consume. He probably needed fish or some shit! 

But at the sight of the water, Eddie immediately lunged for it and snatched it away, gasping in pain as he jostled his tail the wrong way. But the pain was short-lived as Eddie quickly turned to the bottle and tried opening it. Only to fail of course... he had no concept of what a twisting bottle cap was, and Richie watched as the poor mer tried opening the bottle unsuccessfully. With his teeth and his clawed hands, until finally, Richie held out his hand to grab the bottle, and Eddie gave it to him, his face downcast in defeat. Richie couldn’t help but smile kindly at how endearing the sight was as he twisted off the cap and handed the water back to him. 

Eddie took the water back, and in about two seconds flat, drank all of it. Not a drop left in sight. 

“Damn,” Richie said as Eddie dropped the bottle back onto the sand. “You were thirsty.” He grabbed the bottle and tucked it away behind him, when the familiar sound of a stomach gurgling filled the air again. The water might have helped, but it certainly wasn’t enough to help with the hunger. Eddie wrapped his arms around his torso, cradling his stomach and sides, and tried his best to hide the blush growing on his face. 

Richie groaned. It was just one thing after another wasn’t it? What was the saying? Out of the frying pan and into the fire? 

Because first it was the tail, then it was the concussion, then it was drying out, then it was dehydration, and now it’s hunger. He just couldn’t get a break could he. 

Richie glanced around hopelessly, looking for anything on the beach that might offer some kind of food, when his eyes fell onto the green knapsack. The one from before that he had dropped from the shock of finding Eddie. 

Could it…No..there’s no way….? 

Eddie followed his gaze, having noticed the suddenly strange behavior, and his eyes widened impossibly so as soon as they laid on the green bag. He immediately pointed at it and slapped Richie's arm, causing him to yelp indignantly. 

It seemed like there was a way. 

Eddie made a few noises of frustration, grunts mostly, and kept giving Richie that pointed look that told him all that he needed to know.    
“Okay, okay, I’m getting it, I’m getting it.” He said as he got up from his spot and strode over to the bag, picking it up off of the ground once more. It was covered in sand, and the shells and broken glass that he had picked up earlier for Bev were still there, but instead of picking them up again he opted to leave them behind. There’d always be more days to get more seashells and glass. 

He jogged back over to Eddie, who was looking more and more frantic the closer Richie got. And as soon as Eddie could reach him, he snatched the bag away from Richie, untied the top of the bag, and dove into the knapsack, digging around for whatever he was so desperate to get his hands on. Richie sat down next to him, watching curiously and warily as Eddie shifted around the stuff. Until finally, an excited chirp escaped his throat (which Richie absolutely refuses to admit made his heart melt at how cute it sounded) and pulled out a small package made up of seaweed and frayed rope. He tore it open to reveal pale fish meat and some kind of sea grass. 

His face lit up, a giant grin brightening it and his eyes glinting happily, before he started eating the contents of the package, scarfing down whatever was left in just a few seconds and emptying the package with a content smile on his face. 

“Wow,” Richie said. “You were  _ definitely  _ hungry.” He said, pulling out the Gatorade and taking a few generous sips. “So I take it you’re feeling better, huh?” 

Eddie glanced at him from the corner of his eye, but continued to search through his bag. It seemed as if he was looking for something, but what it was, Richie couldn’t guess for the life of him. Until finally, his shoulders dropped and Eddie’s head hung in disappointment. 

There was no more food. 

Eddie eyed the bag of Cheetos lying at Richie’s feet, and Richie barely had the time to pull them away before Eddie lunged for them.

“Nuh uh, no way! You ain’t eating this shit. Who knows what the fuck it’d do to you. You’d probably die.” Eddie huffed and crossed his arms, his lips almost turning into a pout. 

_ Dammit, why’d he have to be so fucking cute.  _ Richie thought to himself. He turned around to place the Cheetos next to the empty water bottle, when suddenly his phone started ringing. 

“Oh, shit.” he muttered as he turned to look at his bag, which was still lying beside his board and towel. Richie shot off of the ground and raced towards his bag, the insistent ringing echoing in his ears. Eddie had jumped at the unfamiliar sound, and tensed at seeing Richie run to reach his bag before letting his cell get to voicemail. 

“Fuck!” Richie cussed, as he saw the time. It was well past when he was supposed to be home, which meant that he had missed his class  _ and  _ his hangout ‘study’ session with Bev. Was it really four o’clock already? 

And it was a good thing that Richie reached his phone in time... because it was his mom. 

“SHIT!” He accepted the call. “Hello, my dear mother Margaret, how are you doing on this exceptionally fine day?” 

“ _ Richie? Honey, where are you? Bev called and asked if we knew where you were because she didn’t see you at campus today.”  _

“Ah yep! Everything’s fine! Nothing to worry about here, I just got stuck in some traffic.” he exclaimed, hoping that his mom wouldn’t see through his words. The phone was silent for a split second, before Richie heard his mom sigh.

“ _ Pretty intense traffic then if it kept you there for three hours.”  _

_ Oh fuck, she was onto him.  _

“Well I wasn’t actually in traffic for three hours, I actually just left the beach too late and by the time I was on my way, I was a half hour late for the class. So, I just thought  _ ‘why show up if I’m late anyway,’  _ right?” 

Maggie humphed over the phone. “ _ Richie you know I don’t like that idea.”  _

“Yeah, I know Mom, but it’s fine. My grades are fine, so missing one class won’t kill me.” 

“ _ Isn’t that what you said the last three times?”  _

Richie sputtered. “Do not quote Past-Richie, Mother. What did that bastard know? He knows  _ nothing.  _ He’s a dumbass motherfucker and you know it.” 

_ “Uh huh, Present-Richie also seems like a dumbass too, if you ask me.”  _ Maggie said. 

Richie scoffed. “Well, nobody asked you did they?” 

A clear peal of laughter erupted from the phone and Richie couldn’t help but smile as he heard his mother laugh. She was one of the few good people he could banter with, aside from Bev and his other friend Stan, and every time they ‘argued’ it was a highlight of Richie’s day. A reminder of where he gets half of his humor from. 

_ “Yeah, you got me there. That’s a good point. But that’s not what we were talking about. Where are you right now Richie?”  _ she asks. Richie swallows thickly and looks around, his eyes catching Eddie’s, who’s watching him intently. He tries not to let those honey eyes get to him and turns away before anything could happen. 

“I’m, uh, I’m at the pier coffee shop. You know the, uhm, the one we went to a few weeks ago?” 

_ “Oh, Cafe Makario?”  _

“That’s the bitch!” 

_ “Okay, well it’s good to know you’re okay. Just be sure to get home safe.”  _

“Yeah, will do. I’ll make sure of it Mom.” 

“ _ Good, I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” _

“Bye.” Richie hung up the phone and released a sigh that had been weighing down his shoulders. How did the time pass by so quickly? 

He looked out to the water, and with a sense of dread realized that the waves were washing in closer than before. It was going to be high tide soon, and he couldn’t stay for that. He’d have to leave Eddie until tomorrow. 

Richie turned back to look at the mer, who was still watching with curious concern in his eyes, and started to make his way over to him. And along the way he grabbed his bag, board, and towel and knelt down next to Eddie, packing up the snacks and Gatorade. Eddie made a sound in the back of his throat and grabbed Richie’s arm. 

“No.” he said, having realized that the other boy was packing up to leave. Richie sighed. 

“Sorry, but I gotta get going, Eds.” 

“Eddie.” 

“-But I promise I’ll be back tomorrow, okay? I promise.” Richie tugged on his jacket, having grown tired of being shirtless for half of the day, threw his bag over his shoulder, and tucked his board beneath his arm. 

“ _ No. _ ” Eddie said again, this time much more firmly than before. Richie groaned, and knelt down so that he could be eye-level with the mer. 

“Eddie, I need to get going. I promise that I will be back tomorrow, and maybe I’ll bring a dictionary and food or some shit, but right now I gotta get going.” 

He dropped his board and held out his hand, extending only his pinky. “Promise.” he said. 

Eddie eyed the pinky, unsure of what it meant, but then Richie demonstrated wrapping his pinkies together, and then gestured to Eddie to do the same. The mer glanced at it, uncertain, before reaching out and wrapping his own finger around Richie’s. It was a little awkward with the webbing getting in the way, but even Eddie felt the sentiment there. 

Richie smiled, and dropped his hand, reaching for the towel lying at his feet. It had since been dried and felt warm after having spent hours in the sun, so when Richie placed it around Eddie’s shoulders, it felt like receiving a nice, warm hug. 

“Promise.” Eddie said, trying the word out on his tongue. Richie’s smile grew brighter. 

“Promise.” 

The surfer picked up his board and shifted the bag on his back, before turning around on his heels and heading towards the path that would lead him back to his car. Eddie tugged the towel tighter around him, appreciating the warmth it gave off despite the feeling of grainy sand on his skin, and let a soft smile grace his lips. 

Even if he couldn’t understand much of what Richie said, he knew that this wasn’t going to be the last time he saw him. 

“Promise?” He called out one more time, just to quell the rising anxiety. Richie spun around, a grin on his face. 

“I promise Eddie Spaghetti!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoooo! 5.5k words in one chapter! Nice. I like that length. Hopefully i'll have the attention to span to get this multichapter done, but if i know my ADHD ass, that is unlikely. But heres to hoping!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie returns to the cove and his and Eddie's friendship begins to grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whelp i finally got this next chapter out! Things have been a little busy but also boring, if thats even possible, and since it's MerMay i thought i'd at least get ONE chapter out there for my mermaid au fic. It seemed fitting.   
> Shout out to Millenialpink22 for keeping me sane during this quarantine and to all of you guys who have sent such wonderful comments. I love and cherish every single one and it always brighten my day to see them.   
> But now onto the chapter, I hope you all enjoy!

Richie stood in front of the glass cabinet, biting his lip and tapping his foot rapidly against the floor. 

The contents within the cabinet seemed to mock him, sitting innocently in the ice, as if they did nothing wrong in their entire lives. Those motherfuckers. He stared at the fish within the glass, glaring at them as if they would reveal the secrets of the universe if he stared at them hard enough, but alas they remained to be dead, glassy-eyed fish. They stared back at him mockingly. 

“Hey dude,” the man behind the counter said, “You gonna pick something or what?” 

Richie glanced up to look at him, seeing the irritated look on his face and the patchy facial hair that barely covered his chin. 

“Yeah yeah, I was just about to.” 

The man groaned, walking over to slide on a pair of gloves. “Finally. So what’ll it be?” 

Richie’s eyes flickered to the fish once more, thinking a decisive,  _ What the hell,  _ before opening his big mouth. 

-*-

“Hmmm, maybe some of this could help….of yeah, definitely this.” Richie muttered beneath his breath as he walked down the aisle, grocery items lining the shelves. He picked up item after item, inspecting it thoroughly before either setting it back down or placing it into his cart. He knelt down to get a better glimpse at one thing, before stacking three of them on top of each other on the bottom railing of the cart. 

“That should do it.” 

-*-

“Oh, Eddie’s gonna hate this….” 

-*-

Richie stared at a book, or two of them to be more accurate, trying to figure out if it’d be worth it to even get them. He shrugged, and popped the two items off of the shelf and into his cart. He pushed the cart away, popping his foot off of the ground and gliding across the linoleum floor, pretending he was Leonardo diCaprio on  _ Titanic.  _

-*-

Richie glanced at his checklist on final time, double-checking and peering at the spoils of his shopping spree to see if he got everything he needed. When he saw nothing missing from the cart, he nodded in finality, and began making his way towards the check out. This time feeling much more prepared for his meeting with Eddie. 

-*-

The young surfer hummed happily as he strolled down the crumbly path, cradling his recently bought ‘gifts’ and feeling mighty proud of his purchases. He couldn't wait to show Eddie what he got. 

He came into the clearing, softly singing the lyrics of  _ Africa  _ by TOTO _ ,  _ and he could just barely make out the glimmer of Eddie’s tale against the sand. It looked the same as it did yesterday, glittering brightly in the sun with bandages wrapped around it with a smear of red staining the gauze. Richie smiled gently and walked over, going as fast as he could without dropping any of his newly acquired supplies, and when Eddie came into full view, Richie was taken aback by what greeted him. 

Eddie was curled in on himself, his back to the ocean, and his head tucked away so that only the tufts of his brown hair could be seen. The towel from yesterday laid across his shoulders, like a blanket, and the length of his tail was all curled up around him, the large fin resting next to his shoulders. 

Richie wanted nothing more than to get out his phone and take a picture to treasure at all times. But, sadly, his hands were full at the moment. 

With a lingering smile, he began dropping the items one by one, each creating a dull thump in the sand. “Good morning, Spaghetti.” Richie said with a wide grin on his face. Eddie’s head shot up, and he immediately turned around, towel falling from his shoulders. 

His eyes became impossibly wide, the chocolatey brown turning gold in the sunlight and a tentative grin lit up his face, almost as if he was doubting Richie’s return but was pleasantly surprised that he did in fact come back. 

“Richie.” He said. Said person spread out his arms and grinned impishly. 

“The one and only! You didn’t think I forgot about cute lil’ ol’ you, did you Spaghetti?” 

The mer quickly schooled his face, and instead of his bright smile he pressed his lips into a thin expressionless line. Richie snickered and turned around to head back up the trail. 

“Richie?” Eddie called out from behind him, sounding slightly nervous. 

“I’m just getting the rest of the stuff Eds, don’t worry!” he bounded towards the path and began climbing up to gather the rest of the things he got from the store, and by the time he placed down the last item, Eddie had grown a thoroughly confused look on his face. He gazed at every item carefully and even reached out hesitantly to feel the texture of the tarp that Richie had bought. 

“Alright that should be it,” Richie said as he looked at his purchases proudly. A folded tarp, some rope, three large packages of bottled water, beach towels, a new first aid kit already filled with supplies, and an ice box with food. 

He grabbed the first aid kit and made his over to kneel beside Eddie who glanced at the box curiously. But once it was opened, the mer’s face dawned in understanding. An apprehensive look crosses his face, and Richie can’t exactly blame him for being hesitant. He wasn’t really looking forward to changing the bandages either, but in order for Eddie’s injury to heal properly, they needed to be replaced.

“Come on man, I don’t want to do this either but it’s gotta be done.” Richie says as he sees Eddie’s look of apprehension. He bit his lip for a moment, eyes flickering here and there as he tried to gather his nerves, before nodding his head firmly. 

With a small reassuring smile Richie shuffled over until he was next to Eddie’s tail and began to carefully shift it until it was lying relatively comfortably in his lap. Richie noted how fucking heavy it was and wondered how anything could swim with that hanging from them. He began to unwrap the bloody gauze, the actions eliciting a few short gasps of pain from the mer, and Richie cringed at the sound of them. But the pain, thankfully, didn’t seem to get any worse than that. 

Once all of the gauze was gone and crumpled up and set aside, Richie could clearly see the extent of the wound now that it was clear of blood and bandages. And it was bad. He could see the crimson red muscle, almost looking black with how deep it was, and it took everything in Richie’s power not to throw up right then and there. If there was one thing Richie knew about himself, it was that he had a weak stomach when it came to any kind of injury. Which definitely wasn’t ideal in this situation, but what else was he going to do? Call a doctor? A vet? Which one would be more qualified to treat a mer anyway?

But once again, Richie was reminded that he was the only one who could help Eddie, and that no one else would be able to. And just that thought helped him get over his twisting stomach and swallow the bile rising up his throat. 

Richie reached for the new bottle of disinfectant and gave Eddie a quick look before pouring some of it on a pad and dabbing it around the wound. Repeatedly muttering “Sorry”s and swears as Eddie hissed uncomfortably at the stinging sensation. 

Once that was over, he placed a few more pads on the gash, dressing it thoroughly and reached over to grab the new roll of gauze. He began wrapping it around the gash, just like he did the day before, but this time much more steadily and clear-minded. 

Richie held down the edge of gauze and tore a strip of tape with his teeth, firmly placing it on the bandage and finally finishing. He leaned back to look at his handiwork, an anxious smile on his face. 

“Whelp! That looks about as good as I can get it.” He glanced up at Eddie, “How’s that feel Eddie?” 

The mer perked up at the sound of his name and he looked down at his newly adorned wrappings, his face scrunching up in an emotion Richie couldn’t pinpoint. He shrugged, and then tried to shift his tail off of Richie’s lap, who suddenly remembered the overbearing weight on his legs. 

Richie did his best to gently lay the tail back down onto the sand, and once it was off of his person, he got up off of the sand and headed over to the rest of the stuff he had bought earlier that day, snatching up the tarp from where it was laying. He strode across the sand, until he stood in front of one of the trees lining the beach, right next to Eddie, and began trying his best to tie the tarp to the tree. 

It took Richie about an hour or so before he could stand back at the makeshift shelter he made and nod with satisfaction. It wasn’t anything fancy, nothing Bear Grylls worthy, just a simple tarp stretched from one tree to another, but it was enough to keep Eddie safe and out of sight. Which was the whole point. And the entire time Richie had been working on his tarp/ceiling/shelter thing, the young mer had been watching him curiously as he fretted and walked from one end of the tarp to the other. Cursing at his knots and the stupid sliver that pierced his thumb when he wasn’t paying attention. And the whole time Richie had been working, he had been talking to Eddie. 

He didn’t exactly know why, Richie knew that the mer couldn’t talk back to him, but there was just something comfortable in the air between them that made it easy for Richie to talk. That or the fact that Richie hated unfilled silences. 

Most likely the latter. 

Stepping away from the tarp, Richie made his way over to the other supplies and began packing it in the shelter, next to Eddie. The water, the first aid, and the ice box all settled next to each other, and he laid out the towels as a make-do tarp to keep most of the sand at bay. And once that was all done, Richie stood up straight and gave a satisfied nod. 

He collapsed in the sand next to Eddie, who was glancing at the boxes and blankets around him, his eyes glinting with curiosity at all of the strange objects. He poked the wrapping plastic of the water bottle package experimentally and made a questioning chirp when it broke beneath his sharp nails. Richie laughed at the mer’s curiousness, who retaliated with a withering glare, before leaning over and opening the water bottle package and tossing one to Eddie. He wasn’t surprised when he asked for another one less than two minutes later, and happily complying with the pleading eyes, Richie gave him another. Still in awe of how fast the water disappeared. 

And as Richie stared at his new, strange friend, his eyes ended up trailing down and settled on the mottled bruises dotting across Eddie’s chest. His face twisting into a grimace as he suddenly remembered the fractured ribs. 

There really wasn’t much he could do about that, other than make sure that Eddie kept breathing properly so that he wouldn’t develop pneumonia, and maybe some painkillers to help with the pain. He would know. He spent twenty minutes researching it last night. 

And almost as if on cue, Eddie hissed uncomfortably and pressed a hand against his chest, dropping the water bottle. 

“Oop, that’s not good.” Richie reached into the first aid and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen, pouring out a few into his hand and offering them to his friend. “Here, Eds.” 

“Eddie,” the mer strained out as he kept gasping short breaths, apparently taking the time to correct Richie. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever you say, just take this.” 

He looked at them scrutinizingly, and sent a cautious look at Richie, who really wasn’t in the mood to be dealing with this. Eddie was in pain, and the fucking pills would make him feel better. 

“Trust me,” he said. Eddie gave them one last cautious glance, before reaching out and taking them from Richie’s hand, hesitantly popping them in his mouth and dry swallowing. His face contorted into a scowl as he shuddered at the meds making their way down his throat.

“Yeah, you probably should have had some water with that.” Richie said, lightly chuckling. 

He glanced at the bruises once more, before a thought suddenly came to mind. A smile lit up Richie’s face as he remembered the other thing he had gotten at the store, mentally slapping himself for having forgotten about it. 

“Wait hold on, I got something for you! I can’t believe I fucking forgot about it. Just a sec!” 

He got up from his spot on the sand and climbed back up the trail to where his car sat idly by. He grabbed the grocery bag that was sitting on the floor of the passenger seat and quickly made his way back to the ‘camp’, jumping over the sticks and vegetation that stood in the way. Richie sat down next to Eddie, who was looking at him as if he had grown a second head, but upon seeing another bag, his curiosity got the better of him and he leaned forward, trying to peer inside. 

Richie reached in, a huge smile on his face, and with a flourish pulled the bright fabric out of the plastic bag. It was a fluorescent pink shirt, with ‘ _ What’s Up, Beaches’  _ printed on it in big blocky letters with a coconut drink and palm trees surrounding it. Needless to say, Richie thought it was fantastic. But Eddie didn’t seem to share his sentiment. 

He gave the T-shirt a funny look, scrunching up his nose and was clearly offended by the outrageous pink color. It was cute, cute, cute! 

Richie held it out for Eddie, who still looked at the offending material as if it had insulted him. “Here, try it on!” Richie said, still grinning widely. The mer reached out and stroked the fabric, and his scowl softened into a look of surprise as he continued to feel the shirt. The cotton fabric felt soft and gentle compared to the scratchy beach towels that he had been stuck with all night, and infinitely better than the dry, rough sand. 

He took the shirt and wrapped it around his shoulders, much like the towel from last night, and turned to Richie, who looked like he was trying his best to keep himself from laughing. Eddie glared at the human, and crossed his arms, the action making his chest pang uncomfortably, but he would be damned if he let Richie know that. 

“No, not like that.” he giggled as he reached out and took the shirt off of his shoulders. Eddie missed it’s warmth and softness immediately. “You put it on like this, dumbass.” he said as he scrunched it up in his hands and held out the neck hole for Eddie, who tentatively slipped his head through. Richie helped him slip his arms through, since the mer had to be careful not to make too sudden or large movements in order to avoid pain in his chest, but once his arm slipped through the last hole, the shirt settled over him like a large blanket. The soft fabric rubbed gently over his shoulders and it instantly began warming him up. And while the color was still awful and he still didn’t understand what the inscription on it meant, Eddie knew that it was infinitely better than the towel that he had slept with last night. 

Richie giggled when he saw the too big T-shirt pooling at Eddie’s waist, and when the mer turned to look at him, he couldn’t help himself from laughing out right. It was too precious of a sight! And as if by some miracle, Eddie began laughing too. And what a laugh too! It pierced through the air, clear and bright and warm, and Richie felt a small flutter in the pit of his stomach at the sound of it. 

He could feel heat quickly creep up his neck and ears, so ducking away, Richie turned to the ice box sitting in the corner of the ‘camp’ and began popping open the lid. 

“So,” he said as he pulled out the paper-wrapped trout he got earlier that day,”You hungry?” 

Eddie perked at the sound of the paper and excitedly leaned forward as Richie handed him the fish, immediately settling in the sand and eating the food. 

Richie smiled as he pulled out his own lunch and began unwrapping his deli sandwich. They fell into companionable silence as they ate their respective meals, with Richie offering up a bite of his own sandwich when Eddie expressed interest and Richie thought that if this was all it took to take care of Eddie, then it wasn’t so bad.

-*-

As it turns out, secretly taking care of a mythological creature that shouldn’t exist was about as hard as it sounded. Aside from the whole mermaid thing in general, Richie was having trouble keeping up with just about...everything. 

His wallet really took a hit when he had to keep buying food and supplies for Eddie, because that bitch could really eat and the amount of medical supplies he bought was enough to warrant getting an account at his pharmacy for the discount. Not to mention the new schedule he was on. 

Since he still had classes and study sessions to attend, Richie wound up waking up a lot earlier than usual in order to get down to the cove to check up on Eddie, and then after his lectures were over he would head to the beach immediately just to keep him company and make sure he wasn’t alone. Which didn’t go unnoticed by his parents or his friends. 

Bev asked where he went to all the time, teasing and asking if he had finally found a girlfriend or boyfriend to dote on since he was always running off to God knows where and Stan was being more inquisitive than usual. He didn’t really mention the difference, but Richie knew that he had noticed. 

His parents were more curious too, since their normally comatose son had been getting up earlier every day and heading out before either of them headed off for work. Richie had waved it off and said that he had taken a liking to early morning surf sessions and was headed to the cove, which wasn’t entirely untrue. 

Of course though, Richie never liked lying to his friends and family. 

Even when his school-place proximity associate, Mike, had asked if he wanted to hang out later, he had lied and said that he was going to hang out with Bev. And when Bev asked if he wanted to go see a movie, he lied and said that he made plans with Mike. He didn’t like lying to the people he cared about, and because of it he wasn’t very good at it. But if his family had noticed anything, then they didn’t mention it. And Richie didn’t know what to make of that. 

However it did make everything worth it whenever Richie made it down to the cove to check up on Eddie and tell him about his day. 

Over the past couple of weeks, the mer had gotten a lot better at speaking, having learned a couple of phrases and words, and with the help of some children's books and a notepad, the two were able to relatively communicate. And the day that Richie taught Eddie how to say “Fuck” would always hold a special place in his heart. 

It was a normal day and Richie had just finished his lectures and was hanging out at the cove doing his homework, when the word involuntarily escaped his mouth as he read through a question on his worksheet. Eddie had given him a confused look, his eyebrows scrunching in the cutest way possible. 

“What’s that?” he asked. The phrase practiced well on his lips, since he used it often to ask about new things. Richie glanced up from his work. 

“What’s what?” 

“What you said.” 

“Fuck?” Eddie nodded. 

“Yeah, that.” 

Richie mischievously grinned and shifted to give Eddie his full attention. “Well it’s a swear word. You usually say it to emphasize something or express an emotion, and the best part is that it can be used for  _ any  _ emotion.”

“How?” Eddie asked, his confusion lessening as he began to understand the concept. 

“Well, like anger or frustration or happiness and surprise, it just depends on  _ how  _ and  _ where  _ you say it. Like, since I’m frustrated about my dumb homework, I say it out of frustration and stress.” 

“Oh,” Eddie 

“Yeah, and it’s pretty fun to say too.” Eddie got a contemplative look on his face as what Richie explained began to sink in, and Richie watched as Eddie belatedly opened his mouth and heavily said,

“ _ Fuck _ .” 

Nothing would be cuter than that moment, in Richie’s mind, and the young man couldn’t stop the raucous laugh that escaped his throat, even if he wanted to. 

And since that day, Richie had taught Eddie the wide and colorful array of swear words; and while he had some trouble understanding the grammar behind some of it, (“bitch-mother” in particular had almost killed Richie.) It was one of the best parts of Richie’s day to get down to the cove and hear Eddie greet him with a “Hey, dickwad,”. 

And during their time together, it was safe to say that they had become friends, even if it was circumstantial. 

Eddie was a spitfire and full of energy, as Richie had quickly come to know, and once he started being able to talk more, he was more than ready to fire back at Richie’s playful banter with his own fiery quips. It was addictive for Richie, who had never come across someone who could give it to him as well as he gave. And sure Bev or Stan could indulge him with a dry comment or two, but with Eddie it felt like a puzzle piece had just fit into place. It was natural and their words flowed easily, and Richie became intoxicated with it. 

There were a few days though, when Richie would catch Eddie gazing longingly at the ocean, and Richie would feel a lump of guilt settle in his stomach. He truly felt bad about keeping Eddie on land and away from his home, but if the gash on his tail was to continue healing, as it miraculously appeared to be, then he needed to stay on land for just a little while longer. 

Those were the days where Richie attempted to be comforting, and placed a hand on Eddie’s tail. Eddie would turn to look at him, his bid, doe eyes sad, and Richie would offer a smile and say, “Soon.” 

Because that was the only thing he could say. 

The weeks flew by before either of them knew it, and it was a sunny afternoon as Richie lounged in the shade of the tarp. His required reading book in hand, and sticky notes and pens littered on the sand between him and Eddie. The soft notes of  _ American Pie  _ floated through the air and Richie hummed along to the tune of the familiar song, vaguely remembering the time when he first played music from his phone much to Eddie’s surprise. 

The mer had been enraptured with the sleek device, and Richie had spent an entire evening showing him the ins and outs of it. He even let Eddie make his own playlist on Spotify once he figured it out, and the mer added basically everything he heard. It was an endearing moment, one that led to Richie always playing one playlist after another during his visits, and the songs also helped Eddie with English too, so that was an added bonus to the constant lull of music. Even if he didn’t know what all the words meant, he could probably recite every word of _Take On Me_ perfectly from memory, and Richie would listen with every ounce of his being. 

The waves crashed gently on the bar, and the sun glittered across the white-capped waves. Eddie looked up from his snack of seaweed chips,(which had quickly become one of his favorite treats when Richie had brought it one day. He didn’t really care much for them, but he thought that if anybody would enjoy them, it’d be a merperson) and gave a curious glance of the cover of Richie’s book. 

“What’s that?” he asked. Richie glanced up from his reading, chuckling at the sight of Eddie. Richie had gotten him a new T-shirt, since the last one had started to smell pretty fishy (pun fully intended) and at Eddie’s insistence for another one, Richie complied. This one was a simple white fabric with a little cartoon crab saying  _ “I’m Crabby!”,  _ and everytime he saw Eddie wearing it, he couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

“What’s what?” 

Eddie pointed at his book, “That.” 

Richie checked the cover of the book, despite already knowing what it was. “Oh, it’s  _ Beowulf.  _ I’m supposed to be reading it for school, but I can barely understand what it says.” 

“Then why read it if you can’t understand it?” 

Richie tore a hand through his curls, a tired sigh escaping his lips. “Because it’s required and I’m supposed to be writing an analytical essay on it.” 

“Huh?” 

Richie shrugged, “Yeah, I don’t really know how to explain it.” Eddie’s shoulders slumped.    
“Oh. Well what is it about?” 

“It’s basically about some hero named Beowulf who goes on heroic missions and kills a dragon and some other shit like that. It’s kind of like the first fairytale really, and it inspired  _ the Hobbit _ and  _ Lord of The Rings _ .” 

Eddie was quiet for a beat. “I understood half of that.” Richie scoffed a laugh. 

“It’s about a guy who fights magic creatures.” 

“Oh, okay.” Eddie nibbled on another chip. It was silent for another moment, with nothing but the sounds of the ocean filling the quiet, before Eddie spoke up again. “What’s a ‘magic creature’?” 

Richie bit his lip and set down his book, not really sure how to explain the concept of mythology and magical beings to someone who just happened to be one. 

“Well, technically,  _ you’re  _ a magic creature.” Eddie’s face scrunched up in confusion. 

“What?” 

Richie nodded. “Yeah.”

“But... how?” 

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Well, usually mermaids are in fairy tales and old myths.” Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“Why do you keep calling me a ‘mermaid’?”

“Because it’s what you are. Well, at least it's the name that humans have for you. Or maybe technically it’s ‘merman’.” 

Eddie crossed his arms, his seaweed chips forgotten to the side, “Okay, but I’m not a… fair tale, or whatever.” 

“Exactly! You’re not, which is wh-” 

“Richie?” a voice called out. 

His blood instantly turned to ice, the warm air suddenly replaced with a shocking chill, as if someone had just dunked ice water over him. His head whipped around to the path where the voice had come from and a curse ripped itself from his throat. Eddie had frozen in place, fear taking hold of him as he heard the unfamiliar voice and he watched as Richie left his side to go encounter the new human, who apparently seemed to know him. 

“Bev!” Richie gasped in surprise. He was met with the sight of his friend in her surf gear, with a bag slung over her shoulder and her board tucked beneath her arm. He tried to steel his nerves and the man did his best to play off his nervousness and evident anxiety as the redhead gave him a funny look. “What’re-what’re you, uhm, doing, here?” he spluttered. 

Bev gave him an inquisitive look. 

“I, uh, I came here to surf,” she gestured to the surfboard tucked beneath her arm. “but I noticed that your car was here.” Her green eyes narrowed as she stared at Richie, taking note of his jitteriness. “What exactly are you doing here? I thought that your dad needed you at home or something.” 

Richie adjusted his glasses nervously and tried to portray an easy-going smile, but it fell short. “Oh yeah! He did, but uhm, he actually told me that he didn’t need my help anymore, so I, uh, came here? To surf?” 

Bev cocked her head to the side, and Richie realized that he had said the wrong thing. “Really? And you didn’t invite me?” 

“Uhh,” 

“If you’re surfing, why aren’t you in your gear?” 

Richie’s hands trembled, and he could feel his heart pounding against his chest. “I, eh, forgot them?”

Bev scoffed, obviously not believing the clear lie. Her green eyes hardened as she glared at her friend. “Yeah sure you did. What the hell is going on with you?”

Richie swallowed thickly, “What? What do you mea-”

“You’re always running off, neither me or Stan see you outside of classes, and when I talked to Mike today, he said that you were gonna hang with me, which I somehow wasn’t aware of because you told me that you had made plans with him!” She scoffed coldly, “Why the fuck are you lying, Rich?”

“Uhm, uh, I don’t uh-,” Richie stuttered.

“Not to mention that I barely get to hang out with you anymore, it’s like you're avoiding me or something!” 

“Bev, I can explain-”

“No! Fucking save it Rich, I don’t want to here it. So for once tell me the truth and why the FUCK are you here and why the hell is there a fucking  _ tent  _ over there!” She dropped her supplies and burst past him, shoving him aside as she strode forward towards the tarp shelter. 

Richie’s eyes widened and he rushed to step in front of Bev to block her view. His broad shoulders and gangly limbs finally becoming useful as he did his best to stop Bev from seeing what was  _ inside  _ the tent. 

“What do you mean? There’s nothing in the tent! Nothing there to see except maybe some of my old pornos or whatever if you’re interested in seeing that kind of stuff.” 

Bevs nose scrunched in disgust and confusion. 

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Why is there even a tarp here Richie?” She tried to push his aside and look over his arms, which were flailing about like a goalie in a soccer game.

“I really don’t get what you’re so confused about, the tarp’s always been here, you’ve just probably never noticed it before! Now why don’t you turn around and head back up to your car and then I can explain everything to you!” 

“No! What the hell is all of this abou-“ 

Bev froze. Her eyes had wandered from Richie and now they were stuck on something behind him, and Richie felt a cold wash of dread settle over him as he quickly realized that she wasn't just seeing the tarp anymore. 

Richie sighed in defeat and his shoulders dropped as he turned around to look at Eddie, who was now clearly visible from the shelter. The mer stared back at Bev, his eyes wide as he stared in bewilderment at her ginger curls and piercing eyes, and also because she was the second human he had ever seen. And Bev stared back at him for the same reason that Richie had stared the first time he had seen him. Because he was a fucking mermaid. 

“Hi...I’m Eddie.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well now someone with a brain cell knows about Eddie! And i know that this fic is almost half way over and i still have a lot to write for it. I hope that the time jump felt okay, i honestly dont think I couldve lasted longer without doing it. Im also still figuring out how to incorporate the other Loser's into this story, and im still trying to figure out it's ending, but hopefully i'll be able to figure it out soon!   
> Thank you for reading, stay safe out there, hydrate or diedrate, and get your sleep! (im looking at you Millenialpink22) 
> 
> Until the next chapter! Love you guys!! <3<3<3

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp! hope you guys enjoyed that! I think it's a good beginning and im excited to introduce more in further chapters! We'll dive deeper (hehe) into things like how the fuck is Richie gonna cope with having to care for a merman of all things.  
> I also did a bunch of research on surfing, since i have never surfed in my life, but if anyone as any expertise i beg of you to tell me some advice, because Id really appreciate the help. 
> 
> Until next time guys! love you, stay home, wash your hands, and dont do anything i would do!!


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